


Stolen

by inkandwords



Series: Moments in Time [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, atsu fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandwords/pseuds/inkandwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise wants to share all his moments with Aomine, glorified in the photobooks he takes so much pride in. But Aomine is more interested in the moments stolen, ones he keeps only for himself.</p>
<p> <b>EDIT: For an angstier continuation in this verse, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1535387">I did a thing</a>. </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent fluff. Always self-indulgent fluff. I like to think Aomine likes Kise better without all the additions and makeup and extravagance. 
> 
> Submission for ohbirds and simplyfx's AoKise fic contest on Tumblr.
> 
> -H

Light peeks through between the drawn shades, a slanted piece of the early morning sun angled along the rumpled covers. It's comforting, calming, the dawn of a new day. This is Aomine's favorite time, when the day is waking and he's laying there, basking it in, watching it unfold as the light creeps farther along until it barely grazes the pale fingertips of the blond who sleeps beside him, dead to the world. 

Kise's even breathing inhales and exhales with every rise and fall of his chest. The sound, while relaxing, makes Aomine's heart beat faster as he continues to watch, silently reverent. The new day is beautiful, but he's preoccupied with something else, something that trumps whatever awe the new day holds. 

He grabs his phone on the nightstand and angles it just so. The flecks of dust dance through the filtered light as it hits the side of Kise's face and Aomine is left breathless. With a quiet shutter, the camera clicks. It's long gone before Kise begins stirring, the quiet groan alerting the ace that it's time to get up, time to share Kise with the world again. 

 

* * *

 

"Aominecchi! Look what I got today!"

Kise's enthusiasm is contagious. It's difficult not to get caught up in it, though Aomine already has an idea what it is the blond's trilling about. He stops what he's doing, music halting and fingers poised over the ivory keys of the secondhand piano situated in the corner of his small apartment. Midnight blue eyes glance over his shoulder, a lone brow rising in question. 

Without missing a beat, Kise bounds over to him, a photobook held tightly between slender hands. Aomine's gaze briefly flickers to the shiny cover, takes in the image of the blond draped head to toe in designer labels while holding an impossibly casual pose and rolls his eyes. "It's a nice cover."

"Aominecchi's so mean! It's a fantastic cover!" Kise's excitement falters for a beat before he bounces back, thousand-watt smile stretched wide across his face. The look, however fleeting, doesn't escape him and he feels a stab of guilt knowing he's the cause. But he can't help it. Transparent as he is, he would rather look at Kise's face, at his hands, the subtle way his fingers trace the edges of the page before he turns them, than look at shot after shot of the blond in fake poses with fake expressions. 

They aren't Kise, not to him. But somehow, he can never bring himself to say it.

"That's what I said."

Ignoring him, Kise continues. "It's what we were shooting a few months back. You remember that, right? I took home the jacket because Aominecchi said it looked good on me and then it turned out to be useful because we got caught in that freak snowstorm on the way home."

Aomine chuckles as the memory resurfaces. "Yeah, you complained the whole time we were trying to get the car to start. Bet you were glad you took the jacket though, huh?"

Kise gives him a look, one Aomine knows well; indignant, huffy, all rolled into an adoration Aomine has never been able to figure out. For a moment, he's compelled to take out his phone. But the moment passes and the blond smiles before he busies himself with fawning over the various layouts in the photobook, all excitement and pride. Just then, Aomine pretends he's gotten a text and lifts the phone up ever so discreetly. 

The quiet sounds of the shutter are lost within the rustle of pages and soon, the music begins again, dark fingers dancing across the ivory keys.

 

* * *

 

"I'm almost done with the tower! No, Aominecchi! The flag doesn't go there!"

Aomine ignores the whining protest and places the plastic flag on the smaller tower he's built, pausing to admire the near-finished sand castle. "I think it looks good here," he says, chuckling to himself as he leans back, forearms braced against the ground, grains of sand sticking to his sweat-dampened skin. He watches Kise, watches the way the sun makes his face glow, blond hair blowing carelessly in the wind. "Why should the flag be on your tower? I helped build the damn thing, too."

"Tch! You didn't have to, you know. I could've helped, but you didn't want to look at my new photobook with me!" 

Aomine sees the pout that juts the blond's lip out, wishing he can take a picture without seeming completely out of place. "They all look the same, don't they? Just different clothes. Stop being a brat."

"Aominecchi's so cruel! I just wanted to share them with you. Is that so bad?"

Again, the ace pulls out his phone and when Kise asks what he's doing, he shrugs and replies, "Taking a picture of the sunset. Stop asking dumb questions, baka."

The pout returns to Kise's face and Aomine smiles to himself before he shifts the camera just so, the shutter's clicks drowned out by the blond's mutters of  _'you'd rather look at pictures of the stupid sun than me'_.

Aomine refrains from laughing.

 

* * *

 

"If you don't want to look at them, you can at least stop pretending! That way, I won't have to sit here and watch you be bored of my face! Baka Aominecchi!" Kise's voice rises an octave, then two. Golden eyes glare accusingly at the ace, Kise's newest photobook in a forgotten heap on the floor. 

"What the hell are you even talking about?!"

"You hate my pictures! Just admit it! Is it so bad that I want to share something I'm excited about? Something I'm good at? Stupid Aominecchi's so mean! Are you tired of my face already?" The dam breaks then, tears leaking from the corners of Kise's eyes. He looks so mournful, so dejected that Aomine's at his side before he realizes his feet had moved at all. 

Arms wrap around the blond and he sighs, Kise's sniffled whines and feeble protests lost against Aomine's chest. "You're an idiot."

"Baka, baka Aominecchi! I hate you!" comes the muffled response.

"Wait here."

He begrudgingly pulls away and steps into the small coat closet nearest the door. When he returns, a small black metal box sits in his hands. He's suddenly nervous and his heart beats just a little too fast, but he hands it over anyway, hoping Kise doesn't notice the way his hands tremble just the slightest bit. 

Kise stares at the box, his expression confused. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "If you're trying to change the subject, it's not going to w--"

"Open it."

"Ehhh? Aominecchi's acting strange. Wh--"

"Just open the goddamn box, Ryouta."

Kise nods and does as he's told, his index finger lifting just beneath the lip of the lid before the easing the top open. His jaw drops and he sinks to the floor, all anger and frustration gone. Hands shaking as he sets the box down in front of him, the blond rummages through the contents and pulls out a handful of photographs: Kise pouting, Kise laughing at the camera, Kise huffing as he leans over the edge of the piano. 

He goes through them all, one by one, his fingertips tracing the shiny surfaces of the store-printed images as though seeing himself for the first time. The last one he holds the longest, golden gaze staring, studying, scrutinizing, before flickering toward the ace. 

Aomine's mouth twitches, his expression somewhat rueful and almost apologetic. He knows that picture well, has it engraved into his mind, mapping out every inch of Kise's breathtaking face as he sleeps. "That one's my favorite."

"Aominecchi..."

He kneels in front of Kise and takes the picture before setting it atop all the others. Hands move to cradle the blond's face, thumbs brushing over the pale skin. He leans in, forehead pressed against the other's, and sighs. "I love your face. Every goddamn thing about it. Every expression, every quirk, every fucking wrinkle and imperfection--"

"You think I have wrinkles...?"

"Shut up, idiot, and let me finish, will you?" There's a fondness in his tone despite the words, an underlying affection only ever reserved for the blond. "The magazines and photobooks aren't you. It's what everyone else sees. Those pictures... that's what I see. Stolen moments, you know? Just for me."

He feels the tears streak Kise's face, warm droplets spilling over thumbs still poised along perfect cheekbones. "Baka Aominecchi... how am I supposed to stay mad when you're being so cute?"

The exasperation in Kise's tone makes him laugh, the sound rumbling in his throat as he fights to contain it, and soon, even Kise's laughing through the tears that continue to come. 

"You get it now?"

"Yeah... I think I do."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ [limitlessmonster](http://limitlessmonster.tumblr.com). :D


End file.
